


Diamonds and Guns

by Silent_So_Long



Category: This Means War (2012)
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Gunplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FDR, Tuck and a gun</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diamonds and Guns

**Author's Note:**

> written for the following prompt left by nevcolleil on commentfic - [This Means War, FDR/Tuck, gun play.](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/324732.html?thread=57983612#t57983612) Title comes from the song of the same name by The Transplants. This also marks my first ever “This Means War” fanfic.

FDR slowly awoke with the cool and distinctive press and pressure of metal against his back, running up and down his spine. He moaned slightly, moving so that his cheek wasn’t quite so uncomfortably pressed against the pillow beneath his head. His eyes cracked open, room a little hazy and fogged with the remnants of sleep, as the cool press of metal continued unabated against his spine. He frowned, recognising the familiar shape and weight of a gun against him, dipping lower, lower, lower still to rest against his ass and then back up again.

He turned over slowly onto his back, one hand rising to cover his eyes from the glare of early morning sunlight streaming in diamond-sparkled beams through the window. He squinted sleepily at the other human-shaped body sitting fully clothed on his bed. He felt the continued press of the gun against his body, slowly stroking against his chest now, sweeping downwards to circle his navel teasingly. He blinked and the face of Tuck slowly came into focus, grinning slightly as he continued to tease at the other man’s navel. FDR was suddenly glad for the sheet that was draped over his hips and legs, despite the fact that it didn’t hide the very impressive erection that tented the fabric. It didn’t escape his notice that Tuck’s eyes slid down to the tell-tale signs of FDR‘s arousal, grin settling out into an amused smirk as he worked the gun lower still. 

“Tuck, what the hell are you doing?” FDR asked, voice still gruff and hoarse with the remnants of sleep. “I hope the safety’s on.” 

“What d’you think I am, mate? A bloody maniac? Of course it’s on,” Tuck laughed, sounding far too awake and alert for that early hour of the morning. 

“I never can tell with you,” FDR groaned, aiming his free hand down to try and bat the gun away.

Tuck made an accusing noise and slapped FDR’s flailing hand away, digging the gun into the other man’s soft abdomen as extra warning. FDR sucked in a surprised breath, a breath which turned shaky when Tuck eased the barrel beneath the sheet, running it up and down the length of FDR’s erection.

“Tuck, don’t,” FDR said, but made no move to push the other man away. 

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this,” Tuck chided, with an arch lift of his eyebrow, tracing patterns against the other man‘s balls.

FDR remained silent and his complete lack of words spoke volumes. Tuck grinned before leaning into press a kiss against the other man’s forehead. 

“I bet Lauren wouldn‘t indulge you like this,” he murmured against the shell of FDR’s ear. “Only I can do this to you. I always have done, haven’t I?” 

He smirked, then stood resolutely, before he turned away to head for the bedroom door. FDR watched him go with disbelief, before his need caught up with his brain.

“You can’t leave it at that,” FDR protested, throwing the words accusingly at Tuck’s retreating back. “Tuck!”

Tuck stopped in the doorway, before waggling his right hand at the still bed-ridden man.

“Meet your new best friend, mate,” he said, before the door closed behind him.


End file.
